


When All is Lost

by Rookie_SM



Series: The End to All Her Beginnings [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Clint is Apollo's, Greek Gods AU!, I wanted to make Natasha Artemis but Like Incest?, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Pepper is daughter of Athena, So Natasha is the Daughter of Aphrodite, Steve is Ares's Son, They are all demigods except Tony, Tony is Hephaestus's and Athena's Son
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 18:45:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14721563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rookie_SM/pseuds/Rookie_SM
Summary: Wants something more, Bucky realizes, he wants more. With a man who wants nothing to do with him.(Always wanting and wanting; greed and ambition, he realizes, are not a good look on anyone.)"A thousand years before now,the string of a god-ling,intertwined  with that of a human's,had become unbreakable; soul-mates said thee,it was his pain and it was his freedom."





	When All is Lost

_"A master, a slave,_

_A coward, the brave,_

_Both the good and the bad,_

_Lay heaps inside his bag,"_

-

(To myself and all who I have loved and lost)

* * *

_Winter. The season of death. They say that it is Demeter, angry for her daughter's capture. They say it's_ _Persephone--with her small smile and willful soul. They say it's Hades--death, itself--reincarnated, fighting for one's soul. Winter, with all it's longing told them to capture him not as a god; but as a cycle that would be inevitable like chaos._

 

_Pride, arrogance and greed ran in the family; if one were there in the first place. Cruel, a longing that would not be filled, an ache that was not belonging. The man who was not for his time. The man out of the bag, the man for the future--he was not meant to rule the past. A futurist, one would propose; an innovator, another. Yet, the wound in his heart, the shards he kept close were too familiar, to hopeless. He was no man for the past or the present. He was the future and he would be deemed as such._

 

_He was but evil. But when is someone purely evil?_

 

_Once upon a time he could have been a hero; someone to look up to and someone who could love. Someone people wanted to keep, genuinely and with no ill intentions for the man's charm and charisma were but a farce. However, humans are fickle creatures. Hell bent on destruction to produce more and more--better, they say, better--_

 

_Greed and power overwhelmed him; human limitations were bad; the churning in his stomach still resided. The want for more, the need for more. The gift of never being enough, of never having enough. Ambition, one would call it; greed, the other._

 

_More and more he wanted._

 

 ~~ _Better._ ~~ _No, the best._

 

_"Gods, I pray and I want--please, a child on whose gift I create and I will create him and he will be like no other; no other of his time. Gods, I pray and if you are up there; a child is what I desire. A child and a babe to mold and to shape; one who can save us all. I will create with my own two hands, gift him with your wisdom and your mind; your hands are all I ask and your craft. Give those worthy. Not human--no, ~~better,~~ the best--a god with your own hands can create. Gift him with your mind and your hands. Knowledge and the resources to make it happen--more and more, they whispered--one powerful enough to decide birth and death; given the power and the mind for accepting and rejecting. Gods, I pray and I call Lady Athena and Lord Hephaestus to bear this joy. For one as powerful and as crafty as the, will not yet exist."_

 

_Thus, the young deity--Antonio, they cried, Antonio--was born._

 

_A young, small and fearless god-ling--save us, Antonio; don't let us burn--born to the smartest of gods with the best of hands and the power of tools. Hundreds upon hundreds--rise, Antonio, build us--they burned and turned to crisp.  
_

 

_Antonio. His name was, and he made sure that he engraved it to the hardest of rock. Because he was sure to burn the entire world._

 

* * *

 

_"Company of who I find,_

_Mindless even in the eerie night,_

_Shan't you lay with me, cozy,_

_To burn and rise like the ashes_

_of a phoenix and relight."_

_-_  (To my people who respect and worship what is right; not good)

 

* * *

 

"What are you doing Bucky?" Steve Rogers was the optimum of blond and perfection. He was loyal to a fault and his patriotism towards Camp Half-Blood and Mt. Olympus was a great example of that. He was selfless and he was kind, and he was not afraid to do the right thing; whenever and wherever. Mt. Olympus held Steve's father, Ares, God of War and he was an exact copy of the best soldier; always itching to fight and to put his life on the line. But when it came to Bucky, he knew that Steve would turn his morals upside down and outside up; growing up with the skinny boy (from what he could piece together by the brief flashes of memories) had caused him a lot of broken ribs and a lot black eyes. But they were together  _till the end of the line._

 

So Bucky couldn't exactly tell him about the voices inside his head-- _yes, yes; if only your mother could see you now, yes--_ and the marks on his skin that had been present from before Kronos had captured him or otherwise he was sure (like hundred percent certain with a guarantee of a life time of pizza rolls) that he would turn to each inch and corner to find what was wrong with Bucky.  _And Bucky didn't want anyone to think that there was something wrong with him._

 

So when Steve comes and expects an answer Bucky can't just blurt out that he was talking to the voices inside his head.  _That would be bad; very bad._

 

"Nothin'," Bucky just put his hands in his pocket and raised an eyebrow. He came closer to Steve and bumped their shoulders together. It was still surprising to see the little skimpy Steve had turned to the buff soldier he was now. He still had inches on Steve but he could see that filling out in a few years.  _"Don't worry, child. 'He' wouldn't care much about appearances, anyway."_

 

That made Bucky flush a little. He didn't know who this 'he' was, but he had seen little glimpses of him from visions he had no idea he had gotten. One time he had asked Steve about the man with brown eyes and brown curls, hoping it would be something of their past. Unfortunately, it wasn't. _Not that Bucky was disappointed or anything_.

 

"Bucky, hey! Bucky-" Steve was waving a hand in front of his face. He dodged one hand just in time, otherwise he would have gone barreling to the ground (thank gods for small favors). "Sorry!" He rubbed his head sheepishly at Bucky, "You were zoning out."

 

"It's fine." His eyes softened a little and together they made their way back to the pavilion where the rest of the cabins were already seated. The Apollo cabin had made their way to the front and were already situated on the stage. He could see Chiron with an exasperated look on his face and he burst out laughing. Steve saw his line of vision and they both laughed at Chiron's face. It wasn't everyday you say the immortal training pouting. 

 

"Well, let's take a table and sit." Sometime after the war (after they saved him from Kronos/HYDRA) they had re-arranged the cabin's seating arrangement to fit the campers own friends and people. Sure it got confusing sometimes but everyone just wanted to have sometime to heal with all the shit that they went through. The PTSD was catching up on him too and one of these days he knew that he would get a panic attack in front of the whole camp,  _he just knew it._ But this worked in Bucky's favor too. One thing that had been known from the older campers to the younger ones was that Bucky was still not claimed. Chiron said it was due to the war and possibly having something to do with Kronos messing with it but he did not know for certain. The only thing that he knew was that he was really good with guns (better than most Ares children; they also had celestial bronze bullets which worked just fine in eradicating monsters) and he was an okay mechanic (not that good like the Hephaestus children though).

 

Two other people joined them. One was Natasha Romanov and the other was Clint Barton--or soon to be Clint Romanov. 

 

Natasha-- _Natalia, but she didn't like to be called that--_ was Aphrodite's daughter. She didn't act like Aphrodite's daughters but damn, she was still one of the most powerful demigods he has seen yet. She used seduction like a key and opened so many chances and opportunities for them to attack, it was almost funny. She was the strategist in the team too (along with Steve) and she packed one hell of a punch (Bucky had taught her some moves and she learned the rest). She was a key player in finishing and winning the war. She was rude, mean, bitchy and Bucky loved her. 

 

As a sister. 

 

Otherwise Clint would kill him.

 

Clint Barton (Romanov) was quite the opposite of Natasha but they were so eerily similar in some ways, it creeped him out. He was a son of Apollo and he had a good aim; with archery skills rivaling Apollo's. It didn't hurt that he was a medic and could control the sun--to a minimal degree with lasting side effects. They both grew up together and were best friends. Somewhere along the way Clint had fallen in love with her and Bucky still had to see whether they were reciprocated or not. They all knew if it was that Natasha would no way bottom for Clint and he didn't seem bothered. Not even he could read Natasha on a good day, but she was affectionate towards him like she wasn't to anyone else, so that was a win, right?

 

"Get me some shrimp please!" Barton slammed down in their table and proceeded to get throttled by an annoyed Natasha. Bucky and Steve just exchanged amused looks and sat down at the edge. 

 

"Get me some water and some pancakes." His voice turned raspy but he coughed it out. They all turned to look at him worried--except Barton who just stuffed his face with food--and he just shook his head, saying he was fine. 

 

"So, Capture the Flag is coming soon. Teams?" Steve asked immediately. He had gotten his breakfast already and seemed to be gobbling it with renewed vigor. "Calm the fuck down man. You're going to choke." Bucky started patting his back and soothingly put an arm to rest around Steve. The three of them said nothing but Natasha silently raised her eyebrow in a judging manner. Bucky just huffed, "It's not my fault the blond can't take care of himself." 

 

"You sure it's just mother-henning?" asked Clint while he finished his lunch and licked his fingers.

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"No-it's just that you two seem like you're dating or something." he just shrugged it off like it was nothing. Bucky? His mind whirled around the possibility around dating his  _brother._ He choked. "Ew. No offense but no." He just frantically shook his head, "No way, never happening. Nada, no and no."

 

"Why?" This time it was Steve's question. Bucky just raised an eyebrow at him. He didn't want to think about him like that. "You're like my little brother Steve. It's just wrong." 

 

Steve nodded and just continued eating, strangely silent. 

 

"Well, let's talk about Capture the Flag, shall we?" It was Natasha who broke through the tense atmosphere and Bucky held in a relieved sigh. He nodded gratefully in Natasha's direction and they talked about tactics and which team to put Bucky in--he had no house after all. In the end, they decided Natasha and him were a good team and they got together. That meant he was on Athena's side, meaning he would go against Steve. He cracked his knuckles and grinned wolfishly at Steve. He returned it but it seemed much more subdued and sadder. 

 

Bucky was confused but he refrained from asking. Something Camp Half-Blood still didn't manage to do was pick the small mannerisms out from their controlling habits. Bucky was still afraid to ask anything more than what was given to him, he was afraid of having opinions. He liked it much better when he had less choices to make. He also didn't like talking that much-- _it's okay, 'he' will talk so you won't have to--_ and he preferred to remain silent. 

 

Eventually, it was time to leave and the nymphs came to collect their food and went their way. Natasha decided she and Bucky would bunk together so they went together first. 

 

"You know Steve likes you, right?" She waved the question in the air like it was obvious and Bucky choked on air. "What?!"

 

"You mean to tell me that you, James 'Bucky' Barnes, didn't know that Steve Rogers liked you?" Natasha asked. She was amused but also terribly calculated. He didn't know what she was thinking and he didn't want to know. 

 

"Hey! What do you mean-" he started, "Don't say it like that! I didn't know, and it's not like I'm the only one who doesn't know-" he cut himself off abruptly and suddenly the atmosphere changed. It became a bit more suffocating and he thought about Steve-- _no, he couldn't imagine being with Steve--_ because he had to get it right somehow and maybe even if he didn't want to admit it, he was infatuated with the man with the brown eyes and the brown curls. 

 

"What do you mean you're not the only one-" Natasha took a deep breath, probably trying to calm herself, "Are you implying something directed at me?!" 

 

"Well, yeah." He shrugged like it was no big deal, "It's not like you have been actively involved during Barton's feelings for you either, so?" He let the question hang in the air and he felt her tense. She stopped suddenly and grabbed his arm. He was shocked so he almost punched her in the face--damn reflexes--but caught himself just as he was about to. Natasha didn't even blink but nevertheless dragged him to the corner of the small lake they had.

 

It was in the middle of the forest and they went to the side that no one else went to. This was his and Natasha's place; it was their safe house for getting away with bad memories and if things got too much. He was confused as to why she was going with him now but didn't protest.

 

"Why did we come her?" He asked, to break the silence. He didn't like the silence too much. Reminded him too much of his time with Kronos and HYDRA, so he just closed his eyes. And opened them. In front of them was a spectacular view-- _'he' would have really liked it here--_ the moon was full and beautiful. The sky was as dark as Nyx could be (so she was happy right now. Wonder why?) and the reflection shown clearly on the lake waters which were now rippling--

 

"Let's date." Natasha said it so flatly-- _no, 'he' won't like that! Don't do that!--_ that he thought he misheard it. He asked a 'what?' and looked at her perplexed. She looked unnaturally beautiful right now. She was a daughter of the Goddess of Beauty so that was no surprise but she looked weirdly vulnerable here. And it made him want to protect her. "Not like really..."

 

She was rambling a little; that's when he knew the situation was real and it wasn't a prank that she did to spite him. "Wait, does that mean you don't like Clint?" He was almost surprised when he heard no answer. "Can you just explain it to me. Why you want to date me, when you clearly like Barton and he would kill even me to be with you."

 

"We're not like them." Natasha said suddenly, looking straight to his eyes. He felt a little lost, "I haven't told them the whole truth. It's not that I don't trust them--'cos of course I do, with my life--but it's hard explaining it to them. What we have suffered they will never know, never experience. We are toxic people and we are dark, Bucky. You are not like me either. I am dark, I am hard to love but easy to fall in love with. Aphrodite and her perks, huh?" She raised her arm before he could interrupt her, "Bucky, you think you are dark and toxic but you don't even know half of what I have done. I have so many enemies in so many places and I--"

 

He wrapped her arms around her and smiled softly. "I'm glad you trust me." 

 

She smiled back at him, "You're the only on who remotely understands." He nodded but kept her in his arms. "If I'm being a good friend I would tell you that it's Clint's right to choose what's good for him or bad for him," she frowns, "but I'm not trying to be a good friend. Because I understand and I won't force you to do anything. However, I will tell you that what you are planning is going to really hurt Clint--and Steve too."

 

She smiles again, this time a bit more bitterly, "I'm selfish. But this time I can't afford to be. Clint is my everything--he saved me when no one else could and I love him more than a simple lover. But that means his safety and protection are more important to me than anything. If it means giving up my happiness, I'll do it. And Clint will move on. He's like that--this thing," she moved her hand in a swaying motion, "he has for me, it will go--I'm sure. Then we can break up."

 

He thought that she didn't understand his feelings ran for her so deeply, it maybe etched it in his blood. But then he realized, she  _knew, she knew_ but she had to do this; so she lied to herself.  _To make it hurt less._

 

And gods-- _love is fickle, child, love like this is very rare. She is special too, but not like you, child. She loves him, truly and purely. He loves her more than earth and beyond that, love is so malleable--_ she was so tiny, so strong but fit perfectly against him. She was a broken part of him too--they were soul siblings and they loved each other, just not the way they wanted to. She was in love with Clint and him? He wanted,  _wanted the man who had broken brown eyes, ones that still loved even when they were despised,_ he wanted  _the man with the brown curls who was beautiful and handsome; more than anyone he had ever seen,_ he wanted  _the man with the talented hands and his intricate brain._

 

 

But he didn't know what he wanted, never mind how to get it. 

 

_Wait, child. He'll come; he's waiting for you too. Has waited thousands of years for you too; he will be your demise or your savior. Our master--Antonio._

 

* * *

 

 

_"A thousand years before now,_

_the string of a god-ling,_

_intertwined_ _with that of a human's,_

_had become unbreakable; soul-mates said thee,_

_it was his pain and it was his freedom."_

_-_ (To all the ones before me, who cried only when they knew no one would listen)

 

 


End file.
